The Back-end of Desperation
by Aspect1
Summary: The 22nd Hunger Games is a stigma on the history of the Hunger Games. No one was able to predict what would happen and to this day, this Hunger Games still remain etched into the memories of every person who has watched it. Join as a spectator and watch 24 tributes make their mark in history.
1. 1 Out of Love

**A/N: I do not own the Hunger Games.**

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_Dedicated to Hutsune_

**Calypso Balzac**

A little girl plays with a teddy bear at the end of the room. Her platinum blond hair, tumbling down in waves, hides part of her face from me. I know what I will see if I sweep her hair away though; her left blue eye, and right green eye, both of which will never focus on me again. Nevertheless, she turns to her left, hugging her bear tightly.

"Mommy!" she shouts, and runs in the direction she's looking at.

I smile and stand up, crossing over to her in two long strides and bringing her into my arms.

"Mommy's right here, Avril," I say and rub her head affectionately.

"Mommy!" she squeals and smiles up at me. A lump in my throat forms, but I swallow it down, and press my lips against her forehead.

Though technology has marched on, my daughter's sight could never be restored. The doctors said her eyesight has been completely destroyed. I nearly had them killed, but I reminded myself that they are needed to save lives in the Capitol.

"Mommy, are you crying?" Avril's voice wavers. "Please don't cry, it makes me sad too."

Tears have fallen even without me realizing it. Hurriedly, I wipe them away and blink rapidly.

"I'm not crying." My voice cracks at the end and she frowns. She drops her teddy bear on the floor, and her hand reaches up to pat my cheeks.

"I like it when you smile, so don't cry! Mommy's smile is the prettiest in the whole wide world!"

"Avril," I whisper.

"I love you!"

"Mommy loves you too."

The lump in my throat grows bigger and I dissolve into tears as she pats my head and kisses my cheek. It is soft at first, but it grows louder, and she starts to sing the lullaby I'd sing to her every night. Burying my face in her soft hair, I hug her tighter than ever, clinging onto her as if my entire life depends on her. And it did. Without her, I would be nothing. She means the entire world to me. If I have to burn the Capitol for her, I will burn it. If I have to dirty my hands for her, I will. My daughter is second to none.

Which is why I will never forgive District 3 for causing her blindness.

Which is why I will make sure that Ivy Switch's life in the arena will be hell.

And if I have to make the rest of the tributes' lives in the arena, hell, then so be it. My daughter will never be able to see me, or the world she loves so much ever again. She was not even able to see her father on his deathbed. It is only right they pay the price.

I stand up and carry Avril, picking up her teddy bear from the marble floor. Her hands wrap around my neck, and she leans her head on my neck. Turning to my left, I gaze out of the window, and down into the city. I smile. This year, I shall provide the citizens with a feast. I suppose it is good that Avril cannot watch the Hunger Games though, not as if I'll allow it in the first place. My beloved should be kept as pure as possible.

A knock on the door catches my attention, and I turn to it. It opens and my secretary steps in, prim and proper as always.

"President Balzac, Head Gamemaker Hubris asks that you come to his office. I will take care of Avril."

Avril frowns when she hears it. Her grip on me tightens a little. Against my wishes, I set her down, and kneel down.

"Mommy has work now, but I'll be back later, okay?"

"Don't go." Fear flashes across her face. My heart twists. She was out of my sight when she was attacked by Ivy. "I don't want mommy to leave."

"I'll be back," I reassure her. "I won't take long, pinky promise?"

She mulls over it for a moment before nodding, and holding up her right pinky.

"Pinky promise."

Our pinkies lock, then I stand up. Thalia walks forward; she murmurs in my ear that Hubris wants me to watch a few prisoners test out the arena. I nod, and leave.

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**A/N: And the start of another HG fanfic. Just to clarify, this is NOT a SYOT. ****I will do my best to update regularly (once a week) though with exams coming up, it may be slightly tough to do so.**


	2. 2 Love and Loss

**A/N: I recommend listening to Olafur Arnalds' _And They Have Escaped The Weight of Darkness_ album while reading this. **

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**Excelsior Gem, Male, 17 (D1)**

A solemn thud against the table, the headmistress stands in front of me. The item she has thrown onto it; a folder detailing all the fires I have caused in the past week. She stares down at me with her hard brown eyes, spectacles resting on her nose. Her grey hair is tied into a tight bun, and her arms are folded tightly across her chest.

"_Six_ fires this past week, Excelsior. When are you going to stop?"

That record seems pretty good actually, compared to the fifteen I created once.

Silver Forrest; headmistress of Forrest orphanage, and the resident tyrant. Her name is pretty, but the accompanying persona hardly suits it. I know her grandson though—Garnet Forrest. He's pretty nice, quite easygoing, and the Victor of the 18th Hunger Games. He drops by the orphanage sometimes to see us, I like him. Silver and Garnet are pretty much polar opposites.

"You know my answer," I reply tiredly. This has been going on for the past ten years. I set a fire, she drills me on when I'm going to stop. It was daily at first, but then it became weekly, and stayed at weekly. For the past ten years, she has been mercilessly asking me when I am going to stop setting things on fire. How would I know? I _can't_ stop. I _don't_ know how. The only one who can stop me is Allaria Fleurs; my girlfriend. No way in hell am I having her near any fires, or any danger at all.

She sniffs, obviously fed up with my lack of a satisfactory answer. Well, too bad.

"It no longer matters now though." Her tone is suddenly about ten degrees colder which makes me sit up straight. Something bad is going to happen, I just know it. "We have decided that you will volunteer for the Hunger Games this year."

What? The 'We' could only mean her, and the heads of the training academy here.

I shoot up from my seat and slam my hands down on the table. She flinches, afraid that I will hit her. It occurs to me that despite how big she can appear to me sometimes, physically, I still am bigger than her. Not to mention stronger.

"I'm not going to volunteer!"

Yeah sure, this orphanage does train the orphans to be Careers so they could volunteer for the district. They probably figure that no one would miss orphans being sent off to die in the Hunger Games. But while we arere busy fighting for our lives, why not train us so at least we die as an embodiment of glory of District One? Here, in District One, we are seen as a stigma. As if to prove a point, the mayor threw the orphanage straight into the heart of the slums. As slum-like as you could get in District One that is.

But I digress.

The 'real' Careers will murder me. They believe that they should get all the glory, dignity, and honour that come with it. They can go right on ahead and take it for themselves. I'm staying out of this bloody business.

"Oh yes you will." My stomach does a flip suddenly, and the same anxious feeling I get fills me. It makes me want to throw up.

"You can't make me."

"Allaria will be reaped. We have…ensured the Reaping will be rigged to draw her name. And under no circumstances will anyone, _anyone_ volunteer for her."

_No_. I cannot believe them! They will use my girlfriend as a hostage?! Yes, she has trained as a Career but the superiors deemed her too low for the standards they expect. They kicked her out last year, but she has been helping me with my own training, seeing as I am still stuck in the programme and all.

"Now, Excelsior, surely you wouldn't want to see your girlfriend go in and die when you could have done something about it right? Like sacrificing yourself to lengthen her life.

"You…you want to get rid of me."

"The entire district wants to get rid of you. The only reason why we have been putting up with you and your fires is because we see use for you in the Hunger Games. Win and bring glory to our district, or die, but die dignified."

With that, she sweeps out of the room, slamming the door shut after her. The slam echoes after her and leaves me staring at the crackling fireplace. Sparks jump out of the flames at times only to sizzle off on the wooden floor. That bitch. I will kill her before I go to the Reaping. I will burn her into the ground!

"Excelsior?" the quiet voice shakes me out of my blind anger. It relaxes me and I turn to look at the blond girl standing in front of the door. Her green eyes are full of worry. Allaria; she looks stunning in her short-sleeved white blouse and long pale pink skirt.

"Hey," I say softly, collapsing onto the couch.

The door locks with a click and she comes to sit beside me. Her calloused hands, so unfitting for such an elegant girl, pull me down onto her lap. I settle my head onto her lap and let her run her hands through my blond hair. We do not talk and watch the orange glow of the fire turn the hue of the walls amber. Our hands interlock after a while and with her free hand, she caresses my cheek.

The two of us, trapped by the lions' game, will never be able to fulfill our dreams and promises.

Dreams and promises…I suddenly sit up so fast that Allaria lets out a little surprised squeak. I stand and pull her up. It is only early morning, about six. At least three more hours until the Reaping, barely enough time but it can be done.

"Allaria, we're going to the priest!"

"Jon? Why?"

I go down on one knee and bring out a red ring box that I have been carrying around with me for the past few months. I pop it open and hold it up to her.

In a very serious tone, I ask, "Allaria Fleurs, will you marry me?"

A shocked gasp answers me. My hands turn clammy immediately. Oh god, what if she disagrees? What if she rejects me? My heart starts pounding and I am pretty sure I have started to tremble. Then, she bursts into a bright smile and clasps my hands in hers, kneeling down.

"I will gladly marry you, Excelsior Gem," she replies, eyes shining with tears.

Happiness explodes in me like fireworks, and with it came sweetness. Our lips meet in a chaste kiss. I want this moment to last forever, to be frozen in time. But reality calls us back. We stand up and lace our fingers together. Then, we make our way to Jon, knowing that this will only cause further heartbreak to us when one of us dies.

But, you know, we only live once, we have to make the best out of it.

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After marrying the two of us in the rundown chapel, Jon leaves us. We sit on one of the less dusty pews and gaze up at the stained glass depicting Jesus on the cross. Allaria wears her wedding ring on her ring finger now; a simple silver band with three diamonds studded onto it. Mine is a silver band except thicker. No other token is needed.

I look at Allaria, seeing how her hair catches the light and becomes light golden. Her pink lips are curved into a soft smile as she leans her head on my shoulder. I put an arm around her, holding her close, and she snuggles in further. If only this could last forever, till death do we part. This...is perfection. Nothing else is needed.

"When I close my eyes, I can see our children," Allaria says softly. "They'll have your beautiful blue eyes, and our blond hair."

Her eyes are close, she looks blissful. I close mine.

"When I close mine, I see twins, one girl and one boy."

"We'll name the girl Allison."

"And the boy Theo."

"We'll be one big happy family."

"Living in a home big enough for all of us."

"And we'll be happy." We say it in unison, and our voices break at the end.

I open my eyes and look into hers; blue against green, sadness meeting with sadness. My chest grows tight, and we press our foreheads together, fingers intertwining together tightly, not wanting to let go of each other.

So many things I want to tell her, whisper to her. So many things I want to do with her; hold her, feel her, _grow old together_. How many I love yous can we tell each other before one of us die—we die. How many stolen moments will we be able to snatch before we have to enter the arena?

I press my lips to her neck, her hands entangle in my hair. I lay her down onto the pew. Her eyes are shining with tears.

"It'll be fine," I promise. "It'll be fine."

And just once, just once, please let me believe that, please let that come true.

But I already know it is too late.

Our fates have been sealed.

The Reaping is a horrid affair as always. Allaria and I are separated, she goes into the eighteen year old section and I stay at my spot until I see her get swallowed up by her crowd. The boys behind me all push me forward but after I hold up a lighter, they stop. The Peacekeepers tense when I show the lighter but none moves to disarm me. Of course, this pyromaniac is already going into the Hunger Games. Maybe I should burn some of the Careers as my goodbye to them.

I entertain that thought as I move to the seventeen year old section. They part like the Red Sea when they see me, chattering dying down for a moment. No friends surround me. I tiptoe a little and catch sight of Allaria talking with a brunette; Chloe. Those two are best friends, and Chloe actually accepts me. I still remember breaking down into tears when Chloe told me that she sees me as her brother. Her brother died when she was thirteen, his life taken by the Hunger Games.

The escort hops onto stage, makeup overdone as usual. She is sporting unusually vibrant colours this year that burns my eyes. Her hot pink hair is tied into two ringlets and her skin is bright yellow. Good god. She wears a Lolita-styled dress but it is a horrendously bright purple. Teetering on her bright red heels, she grabs the microphone and it squeals. Everyone cringes. A bulky guy beside me swears at the feedback.

"Welcome, welcome to the 22nd Hunger Games! Aren't we all excited?" Remion shouts into the microphone.

Everyone breaks out into cheers and whoops, some pumping their fists into the air. Allaria and I lock eyes, her face contorts for a moment, and the desire to run over to her and hug her nearly overcomes me. But I force it down and paint a smile on myself. I am pretty sure it comes out half-deranged.

"Great!" Remion exclaims and turns around, gesturing to the screen where it shows the Dark Days.

The mayor comes up, gives his usual speech then steps back down. Without missing a beat, Remion bounces over to the girls' glass bowl and pulls out a piece of paper. She unfurls it and calls out, "Allaria Fleurs!"

Though I am expecting it, it still hits me squarely in the gut. Like, oh god, oh god, _oh god_, this is real! My prayer went unanswered. Everyone watches with bated breaths as Allaria walks up the stage, no one volunteering for her. Remion looks a little puzzled but makes no comment on it. She bursts into a grin once Allaria reaches her side. To my girlfriend's- wife's credit, she gives off an aura of confidence…and absolute murder. Her eyes are hardened and her lips are pressed into a thin line. She searches the crowd for me and our eyes meet. It is subtle but I can still see her nod.

Resolve suddenly burns in me. No. One of us will come back alive, even if we end up dying alone. We will come back and exact our revenge on the district for forcing us into this.

Remion pulls out a piece of paper from the boys' reaping bowl.

"Julian Sterling!" she announces.

I feel a glare boring holes into my back; it can only be Silver Forrest. I see her grandson sitting on the stage, his eyes sad. For a moment, I falter, wondering why he looks so sorrowful, but someone pushes me out after snarling into my ear, "Dude, what are you waiting for?!"

Remion looks even more puzzled that no one is racing to volunteer but when she sees me walking out, she grins. Julian Sterling has frozen midway to the stage and he scuttles away from me when I pass him.

"I volunteer." My voice rings out across the square.

"Great!" She pulls me up onto stage; part of me is tempted to trip her. "What's your name darling?"

"Don't call me darling," I tell her pleasantly. "And I'm Excelsior Gem."

She grabs my and Allaria's hands, holding them up. "District One, I present to you your tributes for the year! Allaria Fleurs and Excelsior Gem!"

They burst into cheers once more, hatred burns in me.

And I, or Allaria, will come back and burn this entire district into **_nothing_**.


End file.
